


Turnpike Lullabye

by MDJensen



Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Car rides, Gen, Insomnia, Steve doesn't really know how to take care of Danny yet, but he tries, early years, which is good because Danny needs to be taken care of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 18:45:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16770763
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MDJensen/pseuds/MDJensen
Summary: Danny falls asleep in the car on the way home from a crime scene, so Steve just keeps driving. Set earlyish, probably season one.





	Turnpike Lullabye

Steve swings into the driver’s seat like he owns the damn Camaro, but for once Danny doesn’t complain. He’s fucking tired, is the thing. Too tired to care and, honestly? Probably too tired to drive safely anyway. So he just slumps in the passenger’s seat without a word.

This isn’t fourteen-hour-workday tired. It’s not bad-night-last-night tired. It’s bone-tired, soul-tired, haven’t-slept-in-a-week tired; so tired it’s got him feeling lightheaded and dull and the slightest bit weepy.

At least they’re headed home now. Home, where he can be miserable and sleepless in privacy, instead of on display in front of an endless succession of witnesses and uniforms—

Then it occurs to him that he’s already got some measure of privacy now. Steve’s keeping his eyes on the road (for once), well entrenched in his own thoughts, and there’s nobody else around. They’re in Laie. Probably about an hour’s drive ahead of them, so Danny surrenders to the urge to shut his eyes.

It’s warm in the car. He knows he’s drowsing, because reality’s coming in snatches now: window smooth against his cheek, Steve changing the dial on the radio, the trees a blur outside—

*

The first thing he feels is a dull headache, then the dryness in his mouth. Danny blinks awake, then keeps blinking. They’re the only car on the road, though they should be back to Honolulu and its traffic by now.

“Wha-” Danny croaks, then has to clear his throat. He sits up a little straighter. “Wha’s wrong?”

“Hm? Nothing’s wrong.”

“We’re’nah’ back yet? Wha’ time—wha’time’sit?”

As the words leave his mouth, his fuzzy brain finally understands that he can answer this question for himself; he looks to the clock on the dashboard, imploring the little green lines to make sense.

And frowns. 12:51. Is the clock wrong or something?

“You conked out before we even hit the highway,” Steve says, by way of reply. “Looked like you could use the sleep, so I kept driving.”

“You kep’ driving?” Danny echoes. Damn, but his mouth is dry. He wonders if he was snoring. “’s after midnight.”

“Mm.”

“What if I’d had Grace tonight?”

“First of all,” Steve says, eyes flicking over, “we didn’t leave the scene ‘til well after eight. If you had her tonight, you’d’ve called Rachel already. And second of all, you never have Gracie on Thursdays.”

Danny wants to argue. He does, if even just on principle. Instead he reaches up and rubs his neck, coming to understand now that the headache is in fact a crick from sleeping against the window. “We’ve been driving—four hours?”

“Yeah. Four and a half, maybe.”

“Island’s not that big.”

“Yeah, but Kamehameha’s basically a big loop. We got to Honolulu; I headed north again.”

Danny rubs crusties from the corners of his eyes and tries to think it through. “Two hours all ‘round. We’ve been driving more than four.”

“Yeah. Well, we got home the second time and you were still out cold. So.”

So basically Steven McGarrett has driven him around the circumference of Oahu, twice, tonight. Huh.

“Aren’t you tired?”

“Nah.”

“Aren’t you bored?”

“I like driving.”

“As an extreme sport.”

“Yes. I also like driving, just to drive.”

Danny should probably feel grateful or something; he knows that. But all he really feels right now is bleary and thirsty; not to mention he needs to pee. He scrubs at his forehead.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Danno,” Steve says. Danny’s not looking, but he hears the smile in his partner’s voice.

“Embarrassed about what?”

“That car rides put you to sleep. It’s cute.”

 _Cute_ , coming from a Navy SEAL, sounds like something that’s not quite a compliment.

“Car rides don’t put me to sleep, in general. I just haven’t been sleepin’ so good the past few days.”

Steve snorts. “Car rides definitely put you to sleep, Danno.”

“You say that like you think you know that.”

“It’s never on the way to a case, but coming back from them—you definitely tend to nod off.”

Those four hours helped, but they certainly weren’t a miracle cure; Danny’s still kind of overemotional, and at the (objectively harmless) ribbing, he feels tears sting the corners of his eyes. “Has it occurred to you that I am nursing a—an _actually catastrophic_ sleep debt?”

“Yeah. I know you have trouble sometimes.”

“Then maybe don’t make fun of me, okay?”

“I—Danny, I was not making fun of you.”

“ _Fine_ ,” Danny snaps.

But the silence that follows gives him time to calm down. As his blood pressure eases back to normal, it occurs to him that he’s being kind of a dick, and he sighs.

“You’re not wrong, I guess. When I was a kid, nothin’ put me to sleep faster.”

Steve says nothing.

“Ma called it a turnpike lullaby,” Danny continues, resting his head against the seatbelt again, crick be damned. “Not that we drove on the actual turnpike for it, ‘cause, tolls, y’know.”

Still nothing.

“Growin’ up, my nephew lived with us. _Fussy_ ass little baby, _Jesus_. Ma used to drive him around for hours just so he’d stop cryin’. She’d let me go with her sometimes.” He closes his eyes, trying to cover up the dense Hawaiian forest with the memory of orange streetlights along route 21. “I was nine or ten, I guess. I’d try to stay awake, be another adult in the car, but every freaking time I’d fall asleep. Usually even before the baby did.” He yawns; forces his eyes back open and glances over at Steve. His partner’s expression is neutral, but as Danny watches it flickers with a smile.

“You ever see the moon over Kahuku point?”

“No.”

“You wanna?”

“Not really. But I have a feeling you’re takin’ me there anyway.”

“It’s not much farther. Then I swear I’ll take us home.”

“I have to pee. In case you care.”

Steve glances over only for a moment, but it’s a long enough moment for Danny to realize that he’s going to be pissing on the beach tonight, stone cold sober.

Eh. He’s done worse.

The trees give way to shoreline within minutes, and Steve turns into an empty lot and parks the car. They’re close enough now to see the moon on the water. And yeah, it’s sort of lovely, and even though Danny’s exhausted, and drained, he does kind of want to see it up close. Just for a minute or two.

Steve kills the engine, but doesn’t open the door. “You wanna talk about why you’re not sleeping, or something?” His voice is actually sort of gentle.

“No.”

“’kay,” Steve replies, lightly, which has got to be the easiest it’s ever been to shut him up. Danny finds himself smiling a little.

Now Steve opens the door, hops out, and shuts it again, tangibly impatient for Danny to do the same.

So Danny gathers what energy he can, and follows.


End file.
